


we are all illuminated

by SiriCerasi



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Assault, Audrey is... Audrey, Blood, Cats, Child Loss, Cupcakes, Drabble, Dwight and his crossbow, Episode Related, Episode Tag, F/M, Fate (and not fighting it...), Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kittens, Knives, Partnership, Repressed Memories, Sacrifice, Sickfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Love, guys i wrote a fluffy thing what
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:32:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriCerasi/pseuds/SiriCerasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unrelated drabbles, based on word-a-days. 11-19-13: OMNIUM-GATHERUM: a miscellaneous collection. (Jordan/Dwight + kitten)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. alexipharmic

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Notes:** So I try to write drabbles every morning based on various words of the day, and they recently became Haven related (SURPRISE!) so I figured I'd post a few. They're generally going to be short and unedited and probably super fluffy and plotless, yay!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Alexipharmic: Warding off poisoning or infection; antidotal; prophylactic._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** None  
>  **Author's Notes:** Also, these two lovely ladies will not get out of my head. I love them both to death, and I think they're adorable together and I'm so glad they added Claire this season!

It’s funny, that for all she’s immune to the Troubles Audrey sometimes forgets how susceptible she is to normal dangers and illnesses. Like colds. And she probably should’ve realized the day before what her scratchy throat and achy body had meant, but she’d been far too caught up in work to really pay attention.

 

Now, though, the sun glinting through her window makes her head pound unbearably, her throat hurts so badly she can hardly breathe, and her body feels like she’d been run over by a truck. To make it worse, there’s someone knocking on her door. At… she glances at her clock and groans. 7 AM.

 

“Audrey?” It’s Claire’s voice, and Audrey remembers they had an appointment this morning and moans at the thought of forcing coherent thoughts through her brain. She drags herself slowly to her feet, stumbles to the door and opens it, squinting in the bright light. Claire takes one look at her and ushers her back inside, over to her bed. Audrey’s too dazed to protest, until she’s collapsed back on the pillows.

 

“What…” Claire pulls the blankets over her, glancing around the room for more. Audrey swallows, tries again. “Claire, what’re you doin’?”

 

The doctor just raises an eyebrow. “You’re sick,” she states. “And, knowing you, you were going to try to just pretend you’re fine. So I’m not even giving you that option.”

 

Audrey blinks, settles deeper into the pillows. “Oh.” Claire’s lips twitch. “’s just a cold,” Audrey tries, and Claire rolls her eyes.

 

“Really, Audrey? You’re gonna try that on me?”

 

Audrey sighs, closes her eyes and tries not to admit to herself how nice it feels to just _rest_. “Had to try,” she mumbles instead. She cracks her lids to see Claire shaking her head, a small smile on her face.

 

“You’re hopeless,” the therapist sighs. “Okay, do you have any cold medicine?” Audrey shakes her head sheepishly and Claire throws up her hands. “Of course you don’t. Alright, stay there, I’ll go ask Duke.” She walks to the door, then turns around. “And I swear to god, Audrey, if you try to get up this cold will be the least of your concerns.”

 

Audrey makes a face, grumbles, “Yes, mother.” She closes her eyes, tugging the blankets closer, and decides that maybe, just this once, it’d be nice to let someone else take care of her.

 

Just once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love =) Seriously, they make me grin like an idiot, it's kind of embarrassing.


	2. septentional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _SEPTENTRIONAL - MEANING: Northern. ETYMOLOGY: From Latin septentriones, literally the seven ploughing oxen, a name for the seven stars of the Great Bear constellation that appears in the northern sky._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** General season 3 spoilers, nothing too specific after 3.02.
> 
> **Author's Notes:** For prompt "sacrifice".
> 
> This is set before they know about the barn, after Audrey has pushed Nathan away. Very vague and completely non-canon speculation on Audrey's fate.

“So, that’s it.” He sounds so calm, so unaffected, but his usual monotone is laced with an icy hardness that chills Audrey to the bone.

She shivers, nods. “Orion, the Hunter,” she murmurs, looking at the night sky where he’s staring. Orion’s Belt, three stars that always caught her eye before this; now they burn like living prophecies, searing her retinas.

“We could go,” he says suddenly, not looking at her. “Try to keep ahead of it.”

Audrey smiles a little, sadly. “Nathan, there’s nowhere it’s not visible at night. And I’m not spending the rest of my life on a plane.”

“Not Orion, the meteor storm,” he counters almost absently, as though they’re talking about the temperature of his coffee. “It can’t last forever, and it’s only visible in the north.” Audrey raises an eyebrow and he looks at her out of the corner of his eye. “I did some research,” he admits, almost sheepishly.

For a moment, Audrey seriously considers it. Could it be possible? Could she really outrun her fate? Could she really leave all of Haven behind?

She shakes her head slowly. “I can’t leave,” she tells him softly, apologetically. “I belong here. And there’s too many unknowns, I don’t… we don’t know if the Hunter is the cause or just a coincidence, if it matters whether or not I’m in Haven. I can’t just abandon everyone here for a random chance it might work.”

Nathan stares at the ground, hands in his pockets, and she knows he’d already guessed her answer. But the anguish is there on his face anyway as he whispers, “At least it’s a chance,” and something inside her chest just tears open. She leans against him, rests her head on his shoulder.

“We’ll find another way,” she murmurs. He slowly raises his arm to wrap around her waist, tucking her against his chest when she shivers. He’s warm, so _solid_ , a beacon of stability in her increasingly chaotic life.

He nods and she hears him swallow, looks up to see his eyes burning in the moonlight. She’s never said it, she realizes. She’s never told him how desperately she wants to stay, to stay with _him_. She’s never said a word about trying to figure out a way to beat this, only about finding the Colorado Kid or the Bolt Gun Killer or Sarah or a thousand other things that aren’t _her_. She never even lets herself think about it, because once she does she realizes how badly she wants to stay, and the grief and anger and fear are so intense it’s paralyzing.

Still, it hasn’t been fair to him. She’s been selfish, and she knows it, trying to protect him but also herself. And the cost for both of them has just been too high.

She nuzzles his neck, wraps her arms loosely around his waist and closes her eyes. He smells like the ocean, like salt and sand (and Chinese food). He smells like home.

“I want to stay, Nathan,” she mumbles into his shirt. “I want to stay.”

He kisses the top of her head, wraps his other arm around her and pulls her flush against him, burning out the cold she’s felt since Duke had first told her about the Hunter. They can do this, together. They’ve always been stronger as a team, and she’d been stupid to think otherwise.

And maybe, when this is over and she’s not about to vanish on him, they can be more than that.

For now, though, she’s beyond content to stand with him in the dark and let his warmth burn out those three taunting stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love =)


	3. phantasmagoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _PHANTASMAGORIA - MEANING: a shifting scene made up of many elements. A sequence of fantastic imagery, illusions, etc._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** Through 3.06 (Real Estate)
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** Written for MightyMillie on FFn, who's been freaking out with me over Claire's fate and wanted some Claire fic ;) This is set during Real Estate, right after Audrey and Claire leave the room with the Holloway women and Nathan wanders off after Jordan and Audrey looks like she's about to cry and IT'S A FEELINGS TSUNAMI OKAY. (And I swear I'm working on the next chapter for Time, Nathan and Audrey are just being their usual stupid idiotic selves and not cooperating.)

Claire grabs her arm before she’s made it five steps, forcing Audrey to a halt. She’s feeling a lot weaker than she’d like to admit.

“Audrey, hold on.”

“We need to move,” she grits, but Claire’s grip is iron tight.

“You can barely stand,” the therapist states, firm and gentle all at once. “Just take a minute, okay? I don’t want you passing out on me again.” Audrey leans wearily against the wall, closing her eyes against a wave of dizziness. Memories of Lucy flash through her mind, rapid-fire, but nothing of use. They only seem to make her head ache more.

Her legs suddenly just refuse to hold her and she slides down along the wall, feels Claire’s hand on her shoulder as the therapist sinks down beside her. “Audrey?” There’s a shrill note of panic there. “Hey, Audrey, talk to me. What’s wrong?” A hand on her cheek, tilting her face upwards as she slowly opens her eyes.

“’m okay,” she mumbles. “Jus’ a little dizzy.” She can feel Claire practically vibrating with tension as the woman brushes Audrey’s hair back from her face, studying her.

“We need to get you out of here,” the doctor says tightly, hand lingering in Audrey’s hair. She finds herself leaning into Claire’s touch, needing that warmth, that connection. Especially with what Nathan had just done, hardly looking at her, leaving her feeling like a useless piece of trash. “Audrey…” Claire’s voice is more gentle than Audrey’s ever heard it and she looks up in surprise. Realizes there might be tears on her cheeks when Claire brushes at them lightly. “This isn’t your fault,” the therapist says quietly. “And I don’t know what Nathan thinks he’s doing, but he shouldn’t’ve left you.”

That makes Audrey’s throat so tight she can’t breathe, hears a pathetic whimper escape from her mouth. Claire runs a hand along her back, murmurs, “Put your head down, honey. Take it easy a minute.” Audrey obeys, more because her vision is spinning than anything else. She presses her face into her knees, feels Claire’s fingers comb gently through her hair. The methodic, soothing motions calm her, ease the knot in her chest enough that she can breathe again.

Later, when she’s alone in her apartment, she might let herself cry over Nathan and Jordan. Now, though, she needs to pull herself together, to find a way out of this place. So she draws strength from Claire, focuses on the woman’s steady presence, her soothing touch.

When she raises her head the world is no longer spinning. Claire brushes hair from Audrey’s eyes, studying her. “Better?” the therapist asks softly. Audrey nods, closes her eyes for a moment to take one last bit of comfort in the woman’s touch, and then stands.

“Yeah, thanks,” she murmurs. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! =)


	4. connive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CONNIVE: to engage in secret scheming; conspire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** Through 3.10 (Burned)
> 
> **Author's Notes:** Because I feel bad for Jordan, no matter how creepy she was in this ep. And right now I'm just trying to distract myself from the ENTIRE 40 MINUTES I have to wait until the next ep.

Jordan keeps it together as she stalks out of the station, down the steps to… she doesn’t have a car here. Of course she doesn’t.

“Jordan.” It’s Dwight, sitting in his truck like he was waiting for her, and then she loses it. Feels her legs start shaking as she turns away, then Dwight’s voice again. “Jordan, just get in the car.”

She does, because she doesn’t know what else to fucking do.

She leans her head back against the sit, feels his eyes on her even with hers closed. “What happened?” he asks quietly. She finds herself smiling, mirthlessly.

“Things… didn’t go well.”

“Yeah, I figured that part out. Nathan told me what happened.” That name… that name sends her over the edge.

“Then why are you asking me?” she snaps, pulling on the car door, but Dwight’s already locked it and she’s too bone-weary to try any harder.

“A little girl, Jordan?” His voice cracks the slightest bit and she remembers his daughter with a pang of guilt. “I knew you were committed, but _this_?”

She’s not sure if she wants to kill him or herself, bows her head to rest against the dashboard. “Grady is _dead_ ,” she states, like it somehow explains everything. There’s still a hole in her chest from that, one that nothing seems to fill. “I watched Adam stab himself in the gut because Ginger told him to. I have lost _too much_ to let this…” To let one person ruin so many lives. To let the Troubles go on forever.

(She’s already lost Nathan, though, so what does any of it matter?)

“Audrey’s not Lucy,” Dwight says quietly. “If she knows that she can stop the Troubles by going into the barn, she’ll do it. She wants to help the Troubled as much as you do. None of this was necessary.” Yeah, she’d already figured that out. Actually, she’d known it all along. But she’d had orders, from people who know a hell of a lot more about this town than she does.

Still, she knows Audrey. She’s seen Audrey risk her life to help the Troubled. And _Nathan_ … Nathan trusts Audrey. Maybe Jordan should’ve done the same.

“We weren’t going to hurt her,” she whispers to Dwight, because it seems important somehow. Dwight sighs.

“No, just use her.”

Jordan glares up at him, can hear something of Nathan is his voice. “We all use each other in this town,” she states coldly. Even Nathan. Especially Nathan. For all that he’s condemned her, he was using her just as blatantly to get at the Guard. Audrey had used Moira to bring him back. They all use each other; Jordan just doesn’t have a badge, doesn’t hide behind rules and excuses to explain her actions. She knows exactly who she is, what she’s doing, why she’s doing it. (Except trusting Nathan, wanting Nathan, _loving_ Nathan…)

Dwight doesn’t answer that, just turns the key in the ignition. “I’ll take you home.”

(She doesn’t know why, she doesn’t know how, but she knows he’s only using her too.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! =)


	5. provender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROVENDER: a stock or supply of foods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** Super general season 3
> 
> **Author's Notes:** Random fluff because I'm in denial. Cupcakes. Yay!

“So I hear you like cupcakes.”

 

Audrey blinks in the morning light, staring at Claire where she stands on Audrey’s porch with a smile and a big box that already has Audrey salivating. And normally she’d be suspicious or defensive as to why Claire is here but there are cupcakes involved and Audrey decides she doesn’t really care.

 

Still, though, she’d been pretty set on a day of self-pity and wallowing. She’d told Nathan she was taking a day off when she’d woken up that morning and everything had just hit her all over again, the _magnitude_ of it all, and there are more important things she knows she should be doing but right now all she wants to do is crawl back into bed.

 

“Did Nathan call you?” she asks Claire skeptically, still eyeing the box. The therapist definitely isn’t playing fair.

 

Claire raises an eyebrow. “Nope. You weren’t at the station, so I asked Nathan and he said you’d taken a day off.” Her lips quirk. “Audrey, you don’t take days off.”

 

Audrey sighs, rests her forehead against the doorframe. “I don’t want to talk,” she states, and Claire shrugs.

 

“I’m not here to talk. I’m here to eat cupcakes.”

 

Audrey narrows her eyes at the therapist, mutters, “Liar.” Claire laughs.

 

“Okay, you’re probably right, but aren’t these worth it?” She opens the box, a dozen different colored cupcakes with various types of frosting grinning up at Audrey, and yeah, those are worth talking.

 

Audrey growls, pushes the door open to let her friend in. “Isn’t bribery against some shrink rules?” she whines, flopping onto the couch and grabbing one of the pastries when Claire sets them down. Her fingers get sticky and there are crumbs on her shirt and it’s absolutely perfect.

 

Claire just shrugs again. “We break all sorts of rules in this town,” she answers, and isn’t that the damn truth. “So, were you really planning on wallowing here all day?”

 

And that makes Audrey irrationally angry, defensive, because who the hell is Claire to judge her? The therapist can’t _possibly_ understand everything running through Audrey’s brain right now ( _because you won’t tell her_ , that stupid little voice in her head keeps chanting). “I don’t want to talk,” she snaps again, grabbing a napkin to wipe at her fingers angrily.

 

Claire nods, unperturbed. “What do you want?”

 

And that brings Audrey up short as she stares at the doctor, half a cupcake in her hand and that little smile on her lips that tells Audrey she knows _exactly_ what she’s doing, and dammit but the woman is too damn good at her job.

 

What does Audrey want? She wants this to end, all of it. She doesn’t want to carry the weight of the entire town on her shoulders. She doesn’t want to watch her friends die anymore. She wants to be Nathan’s partner again, to share their stupid little jokes and smile and laugh with him. She wants Nathan to be happy. She wants _Nathan_.

 

“I want to stay.” The words are whispered and she doesn’t remember saying them but there’s a shift on Claire’s face, an anguish Audrey understands all too well. Because Claire wants to help her, to _fix_ her, but this is something far out of the doctor’s league.

 

Still, Claire nods. When she reaches an arm out Audrey doesn’t hesitate to lean into her friend, resting her head on Claire’s shoulder with a shuddering sigh. “Today we can just stay,” Claire murmurs, rubbing Audrey’s arm gently. “Today we can just sit here and eat cupcakes and you can wallow as long as you want, alright?” Audrey laughs, a half-sob, buries her face into the crook of Claire’s neck.

 

“You’re gonna make me talk later, aren’t you?” she mumbles, feels Claire smile.

 

“Absolutely.” The doctor runs her fingers lightly through Audrey’s hair, the touch strangely grounding. “Not until you’re ready, sweetie. You can sulk all day if you want, just as long as you do it with me.”

 

For cupcakes, Audrey’s pretty sure she can manage that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love!


	6. egress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _EGRESS: The action of going out of or leaving a place._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers** : Through 4.06  
>  **Warnings** : Vague references to past assault, suicidal ideation
> 
>  **A/N** : Also fits my HC-bingo prompt "magical trouble"

She should’ve known better. She should’ve known that no matter how hard she tried to leave this god-forsaken place, she never really could.

(If she thinks about it too hard, she _had_ known better, but that’s neither here nor there.)

So now – now she’s sitting in a truck with a power-hungry maniac who makes her methods look rational. Her blood is on his knife, his eyes are glowing that eerie silver and Jordan – well yeah, Jordan is fucking terrified.

She’d known, she’d _known_ , but now that she’s here…

This isn’t the way she wanted to go out.

And then there’s a bolt next to Wade’s head and the windshield shatters inward. Wade snarls, one hand gripping her shoulder, attention torn between her and the knife and the police chief standing outside with a crossbow pointed at his head. Jordan almost, _almost_ gives in. Almost taunts him into doing what she’s thought about for so long, what she’s _dreamed_ of.

But she looks at Dwight, his eyes wide and half-crazed, remembers his daughter and Lizzie’s mother and the fact that he has lost everything, everyone – and she just can’t do it.

She lunges at the door, gloved fingers slipping on the handle, her leg screaming in pain as she shifts her weight. Wade’s fingers grip her arm so tightly it’s a wonder they don’t hit bone and she’s too late, too weak. The Troubles had ruled her life and now they would destroy it.

And then Wade stops moving, his blood warm where it splatters against random bits of her bare skin, his body a dead weight as it collapses on top of her. And Jordan can’t _breathe_ , can’t force her limbs to obey, can only think _not again not again not again_ when the car window smashes in. A bloody hand reaches in to unlock it, gentle fingers curled around her arm and the weight atop her is gone and all she can think is _I don’t want to die_.

Jordan stumbles from the truck, falls retching on the hard ground. Dwight catches her, holds her steady, hands as strong on her shoulders as Wade’s had been but somehow they don’t feel threatening. And his arms are around her, huddled on the asphalt, her body limp against his like a broken doll as he whispers over and over, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

She doesn’t know how long they sit there, how long it takes for her to breathe again, but she’s shivering with cold and more by the time he pulls back to study her. He brushes a strand of hair carefully back from her face and he’s not careful enough, he’s not _nearly_ careful enough, his fingers too damn close to her skin and all she can choke is, “I don’t want to die.”

Something on his face just _shatters._ And then she’s crying, sobbing, his arms around her and his voice in her ear. “You’re not dying today,” he half-growls, the violence at odds with his gentle fingers tracing her spine. “It’s over, Jordan. It’s all over. You’re safe. You’re _safe_.”

It’s funny, in all the time since her assault no one else had ever bothered to tell her that. Because the girl with the electric skin, the touch of death – how could she possibly be scared?

(How could she be anything but?)

Dwight’s arms tighten protectively, his cheek too damned close to her skin but she can’t bring herself to pull away. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs as she cries. “You’re safe now, Jordan.”

For the first time in a long while, she believes that.


	7. omnium-gatherum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _OMNIUM-GATHERUM: a miscellaneous collection_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : omfg I wrote a fluffy thing what is happening.
> 
> Unedited, as are all my word-a-day drabbles.

“Jordan?”

Dwight’s voice sounds odd, which instantly sets her on edge. She half-runs into her room (what’s he doing in _there_?) and finds him staring at her bookcase.

Oh, shit.

“Jordan,” he says again, almost strangled. “What’re those?”

“You shouldn’t be in here,” she answers evenly, trying not to wince.

Dwight doesn’t move. Jordan sighs, walks to stand beside him and stare down at her collection of cats. Porcelain and glass, wood and clay and some painted hideous colors – even a large, stuffed, fluffy one, presiding in the back over all the rest.

“I like cats,” she explains, crossing her arms defensively. Dwight finally tears his gaze away to look at her, something between amusement and shock and sadness on his face.

“Uh.” He blinks, glancing back at the mismatched collection, reaching out to touch one.

“Don’t-” Jordan starts, biting her tongue furiously. Dwight freezes, look back at her in surprise, and she manages, “Be careful with them. Please.”

He raises an eyebrow, delicately picking up one of the glass pieces with those large hands that have no right being so gentle. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that word,” he tells her wryly. Jordan rolls her eyes, reaching out with gloved fingers to take the little cat back from him. Tries to give a retort, but comes up empty.

**xxx**

They’re sitting in his car later, staking out a possible Troubled person, when out of the blue he asks her, “If you like cats so much, why don’t you get a _real_ one? You know, fur, whiskers…” She glares, shoulders immediately hunching, and holds up her hands. Gloved, as always.

“Remember this?” she asks bitterly. Dwight tilts his head. “Besides, I’m not exactly a great caretaker.”

Dwight’s silent for a long moment, and Jordan thinks maybe he’s dropped it, until he murmurs, “You were good with Lizzie.” It’s like her heart just stops, her throat closing over – he _never_ talks about Lizzie. Not like this, not with her. Others, maybe, who hadn’t really known her, but Jordan had been the closest thing to a mother that girl had had, and…

Well, she’s not sure Dwight could ever get past that.

“That was a long time ago,” she manages to choke.

Dwight rests his head against the seat, sighing. “Not so long.”

“Things have changed. _I’ve_ changed.”

“Yes.” Dwight turns to look at her, eyes dark and full of a pain he so rarely lets anyone see. “But some things don’t.”

It’s too close. To _what_ , she doesn’t know, but her defenses jerk up and her stomach clenches and she balls her fingers into a fist, looking desperately out the window.

“There’s our guy,” she half-chokes, half-snarls. “Let’s go.”

**xxx**

He shows up a week later with a box, a bag, and a grin on his face.

Jordan knows she should turn him away, knows that smile means nothing good, but it’s such a rare sight that she just can’t. He doesn’t wait for her to invite him in, just pushes his massive frame through the door almost gleefully.

“Come in,” Jordan says sarcastically, closing the door behind him. He doesn’t answer, too busy rummaging around with whatever he’d just placed on her table. And then she hears a tiny _mew_ , and…

Oh no. No, he _didn’t_.

“Come say hi,” Dwight orders, sounding far too pleased with himself.

Jordan backs away instead. “Dwight…”

“Jordan, it’s a half-pound kitten. She’s not gonna hurt you. Come _here_.”

She doesn’t mean to but she finds herself approaching, step by cautious step, staring at the little fluffy calico head peaking above Dwight’s hands. “It’s not me I’m worried about,” Jordan whispers. But she’s still drawn forward, large blue eyes watching her with a little fear, a little curiosity.

“Have you actually tried touching an animal?” Dwight asks her, almost absently, stroking the kitten’s back with one thumb.

Jordan blinks. “Uh. No. It’s bad enough with humans, and them I can _apologize_ to.”

“Just try.” There’s a sickening twist in her stomach and she starts to back away, but Dwight reaches out to grab her arm with one hand, kitten balanced in the other. “ _Jordan_.”

“She’s a _baby_ ,” Jordan snarls, horrified. “I could _kill_ her.”

“You won’t.” He sounds so maddeningly _sure_. “Just let her sniff your finger. If she gets a tiny shock, it’ll just startle her.” Jordan stares blankly, shaking in his grip, and Dwight’s face softens. “Jordan, come on. Just try, okay? You won’t hurt her, I promise.”

“How can you know that?”

Dwight shrugs. “Call it instinct. Come on.”

Jordan pulls out of his grip slowly, unbuttoning one glove with trembling fingers. She can’t do this. She _can’t_. She can hardly live with herself after hurting other people accidentally, but a defenseless little kitten? She can imagine its little cry of pain, the look of betrayal and fear…

“Jordan.” Dwight’s watching her still, expectantly, such belief and hope in his eyes she can’t understand it. “Trust me,” he says.

She does.

The kitten noses toward her finger eagerly, sniffing the air, taking one wobbly step forward on Dwight’s hand. Jordan can’t breathe, heart in her throat, and then she feels it – the tiniest little wet spot, cold against the tip of her finger. And… nothing. No cries on pain, no flying fur and claws and blood. Just a soft little face rubbing against her finger, and the vibration of purring when Jordan begins to scratch that little head, and the tears on her cheeks.

Dwight hands the cat over with a smile so large it must ache, and Jordan realizes she’s wearing one to match. “Hello, little one,” she coos, cradling that tiny body close to her chest. So trusting, so _small_. There’s a jolt of panic – how could she possibly take care of this creature, when she can hardly take care of herself? She looks up at Dwight, but he’s still smiling, shaking his head.

“You’ll do fine,” he soothes. “Cats are very self-sufficient, all they need is a little attention and love.” He tilts his head with a pointed look at her and she blushes, looking back down at the kitten. “So, what’re you gonna call her?”

Jordan swallows. “I was thinking Lizzie,” she answers softly. Dwight freezes. “Unless…” But Dwight reaches out to touch the kitten’s – _Lizzie’s_ – head, stroking her fur gently.

“It’s perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments make my heart feel squishy


End file.
